A Hunt In The Pentagon
by sgs09
Summary: Dean Winchester calls Shawn for a favor. Turns out, Shawn can do more than expected...  spn/psych/sg-1  Reference/Unexpected 'Verses!
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** Dean Winchester calls Shawn for a favor. Turns out Shawn can do more than expected...

**Author's Note:** After writing "Shawn Spencer: The Ultimate Reference," I knew I was going to have to expand on the one call I mentioned Dean making to Shawn about a hunt in the Pentagon. Though I haven't written my Psych/SG-1 crossover "The Unexpected" I wanted to post the story explaining Dean's call to Shawn, and Shawn's subsequent call to Davis (which is noted in "Shawn Spencer: The Ultimate Reference." So here it is.

Oh, also note: this comes chronologically before "Reid Met The President But It Was Shawn's Fault!" It is pre-season Psych, pre-season Supernatural, and early season seven-ish Stargate SG-1.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own rights to Psych, Supernatural, or Stargate SG-1 in any way, shape, or form. I do own rights to MSIA Air Duct tours of Cheyenne Mountain, and the plan to play Capture The Flag with zat guns in said air ducts of said military base.

Part of the _Reference_ and _Unexpected_ 'verses! (See my page for details.)

* * *

"You're _sure_ there's a hunt in there?" Dean asked, in no way trying to talk back. _That_ had been Sam's job. And now that Sam was off at Stanford, Dean certainly wasn't going to pick up where he left off.

But the question did have to be asked. This was no ordinary hunt his father was suggesting they take. It would be a lot more dangerous for them if they tried to do this.

"How did you even hear about it?" Dean asked, trying to adjust his query a little bit so as not to annoy his dad.

John pulled the newspaper on the table out from under the rifle that was still waiting to be cleaned. "Since it's nearby, I guess the attacks were newsworthy. Though I'm a bit surprised they were allowed to print this."

Dean knew which article he was referring to. He had seen it last night while he was cleaning up after dinner. But he hadn't quite put two and two together like his father apparently had.

"I know it's a little more dangerous than usual," John admitted. "But a hunt is a hunt, and those people need us."

"How are we supposed to even get in?" Dean asked, trying and failing to hide his frustration. "This is _so_ beyond our pay grade."

"A hunt is a hunt." John's tone was firm and final. "And we just need to get some new IDs. Give a call to Shawn and see if he has anyone in the area."

Dean wanted to argue, but he didn't. This hunt would be hard enough—arguing with his father wasn't going to make it any easier. So he pulled out his phone and dialed the all-familiar number for one of his few real friends.

As it rang, he stood and began making himself breakfast. With their current motel so far from seemingly any civilization, they didn't have time to run out for breakfast. They were stuck with cereal and burnt toast. But Dean didn't care, because he knew they would be moving on soon. Especially if Shawn had someone to help them get ready for this next hunt.

* * *

Shawn was eating breakfast when he got the call. He picked up his phone and barely glanced at the number before answering.

"Hey Dean, what's going on today, man?"

"_Hey, Shawn. Listen, Dad and I think we've got a hunt lined up, but it's a little uh...well, we need some new IDs. And I mean really, really good IDs. Like, good-enough-for-a-government-facility good."_

Shawn smirked a little, wondering just what the Winchesters were getting into now. Apparently a government facility.

"I gotcha covered," he said easily. "Just a sec."

Shawn reached for his backpack and pulled out the Yellow Book. His pineapple bookmark was still on the R names. He flipped back a few pages to the Q's.

Quiddle was one of three names on the page.

"Mark Quiddle," Shawn announced. "He's in Illinois. Runs a copy/printer company in a small town named Clinton. What most people don't know is that he's got some mad skills with forging IDs. You got a pen?"

He gave the number and listened as Dean rattled it off back to him.

"That's it. Yeah, when you call him, tell him Shawn Spencer's calling in a favor. And mention something about canaries. He'll know what I mean."

"_What'd you do for him?"_

"Convinced his wife to stay with him. I'd say he owes me."

Dean laughed. _"Yeah, I guess he does. Thanks, Shawn. This is gonna save our butts."_

"So where are you guys going to work? FBI headquarters? Area 51?"

Dean mumbled something, but it was unrecognizable.

"Say again, buddy? I think I missed that."

"_The Pentagon,"_ he said louder.

"The Pentagon? Like, the five-sided building of doom and destruction, _Pentagon_-Pentagon?"

"_No, Shawn, the other one. Yes, the Pentagon-Pentagon! Some ghost is making a mess of things inside. Dad wants to go take care of it."_

"So I just have to ask," Shawn said with a laugh. "Is your dad _trying_ to get you guys arrested? Because like, Mark's good, I'll give him that, but he's not the Da Vinci of forged identification."

"_Can he do it or not, Shawn? You said he was good."_

"He _is_ good, but..."

"_Yeah, I figured."_ Dean sighed, and Shawn heard the sound of a door opening and closing, then the quiet sounds of traffic outside.

He knew Dean must be worried if he was stepping outside to talk to Shawn. Naturally, he wouldn't share his worries in front of his father. No one back-talked to John Winchester or suggested that his plans weren't the best.

Well, no one except for Sam, and occasionally Shawn. But whatever.

"_How likely do you think it is that we'll be arrested and put in jail for the rest of our lives?"_ Dean asked, only half joking.

Shawn sighed and closed his Yellow Book to put it away again. But he accidentally dropped it and it fell to the floor. Mumbling quietly in annoyance, he bent to pick it up, not really thinking about the page it had opened to until it was closed.

"Crap."

"_Shawn? You okay, man?"_

He rested his head on one hand. "Crap," he repeated.

"_What? Should I be worried?"_

Shawn reopened the Yellow Book with an annoyed huff. "The things I do for you," he mumbled. "Listen, I...a few months ago, I did this thing for this group of people, and..."

"_And what, Shawn? I'm feeling a little confused."_

"Um, don't call Mark. I uh, I've got to make a call first. Just...hang on a sec. I'll call you back."

He hung up before Dean could protest.

"Crap," he said again, with a sigh.

* * *

**AN:** Up next—Shawn calls a contact for help. ;)


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I still own nothing! (Except for the huge desire to follow Shawn on an MSIA Air Duct Tour of Cheyenne Mountain...)

* * *

It had only been a month since he last talked to the man, but he really didn't want to call in a favor yet. Sure, he'd saved lives and fixed something none of the soldiers had known how to fix, but... He wasn't quite sure he wanted to call in a favor.

But then again, if this was a hunt, and if John and Dean were going to save some lives there, well...?

Shawn sighed and dialed the number. When the man answered, he tried to sound confident in his greeting. "Hey, this is Shawn Spencer. I helped you guys out last month with the uh..."

Paul Davis cleared his throat. _"Yes, Mr. Spencer. I remember who you are. What can I do for you?"_

Shawn had to laugh a little at that, though he really didn't mean to. "Um, so here's the thing. The uh, the work I did for...for the _Program_, well, there's kind of another issue."

"_No one's called me about another problem. Did General Hammond talk to you?"_

"Not exactly. Um, we're pretty sure there's an issue at the Pentagon."

"_How do you know?"  
_

"A friend of mine. It's kind of his job to know. He's one of the hunters I mentioned. They kind of make a living doing this work. And uh, they're pretty sure you've got an issue there."

"_How sure is 'pretty sure'?"_

"Pretty darn?" he tried.

"_Mr. Spencer,"_ Davis warned.

"I know, I know... But he didn't tell me everything. Just said there's a job in the Pentagon." He shook his head in frustration. "Look, I'm calling in a favor, okay? People are going to keep dying."

"_How did you know someone died?"_

"A guess, really. Or if you'd like to pretend, I can say I'm psychic. But these guys would never take a case so dangerous if people's lives were in danger. I just figured you must have had at least one death so far for them to decide to take this hunt."

It was the other man's turn to sigh. _"We've lost two good men so far. Both in the last week. And we can't trace it back to anyone."_

"Not anyone living," Shawn corrected. "So here's the thing...you can either let my friends come in and fix this for you, or you can keep going along as you have been. Either way, with or without your help, they're going to try to take care of it. But you get to decide whether they come in via poorly forged badges or with your help."

"_Mr. Spencer, how are you proposing they get those forged identifications, exactly?"_

He cringed. "Hunters have to sometimes work a little um, _outside_ of the law sometimes? To save lives, of course? Don't worry about it. But if they use the IDs and get arrested, thousands of people will die, and not just at the Pentagon. These guys save lives all the time—it's their job, pretty much. Except they don't get paid for it."

"_Fine, fine. I hear you, okay? But I'm not letting them run around the Pentagon on their own."_

"Okay. But if you stick a newbie soldier with them, just a warning, he'd better be prepared to see things he wouldn't expect. Better yet, actually, you might want to give them someone from the Mountain to keep an eye on them. And make sure he can handle rocksalt better than some of those blue boys from Colorado. One or two of those guys acted like they'd never fired a gun before."

"_Hey, our boys are trained just fine. Don't you worry about that. I was going to say, I will stick with them while they're here. Then at least I can see this thing through. Maybe I can even come up with some story to tell my boss..."_

"You have a boss? I would have thought a big guy like you—"

"_Mr. Spencer."_

"Right. Sorry. Listen, I'm going to call my friend back now, and give him your number. His name's Dean, but if John calls you, that's his father. One of them will call you back in a few minutes to discuss how they're going to do this."

"_Fine. I'll be waiting."_

"Thanks. And seriously man, this is going to work out. The office will be fine once they're done."

"_As much as my instinct says not to, I trust you Mr. Spencer. Don't betray that trust. Remember, I can court martial you any time I want for some of the stunts you pulled at the base. MSIA Air Duct Tours, my ass..."_

Shawn smirked at the memory of the "Mandatory Soldiers-In-Arms Air Duct Tours" he had instigated in the different levels of Cheyenne Mountain. Many of the younger soldiers had taken him up on the tours. It had been awesome.

"Hey, those soldiers learned a whole new side of the base. Now if there's ever a problem with the hallways or if there's some freaky threat somewhere, they can get around without being noticed. Besides, I already know from one of them that those tours have become a standard introduction to the base. And Jack O'Neil called me last week to ask a question about the fifth and six levels' merging points."

"_That is in no way a reflection of your so called 'work' with us—and notice I use the word loosely. What you did with those soldiers was reckless endangerment. You didn't know where any of those air ducts led to."_

"That's why we played Capture the Flag with those zat guns. We had to _learn_ where the air ducts led."

"_Mr. Spencer, I'm hanging up now. Have your friends call me. I'll see what I can do for them. And believe me, if anything strange goes on with those friends of yours—stranger than your assistance with us last month—then you can believe I will court martial every one of you, and you will spend the rest of your life in exile."_

"Don't you mean jail?" Shawn had to ask.

"_Exile,"_ the man repeated. _"And no, I do not mean anywhere near the country, if you get my meaning. Believe me, no humans would ever find you."_

Shawn swallowed. "I'll call my friend. Later, Davis."

"_Goodbye, Mr. Spencer."_

Shawn hung up.

It took him a moment to feel ready for his next call, but he eventually dialed the number.

Dean picked up on the first ring. _"Yeah. You take care of whatever it was?"_

Shawn rested his head on one hand again, knowing this was going to be a little awkward. "So, you guys don't need to call Mark."

"_You called him yourself? When can we get the IDs?"_

"You don't need the IDs."

"_What?"_

"I can get you into the Pentagon without them."

Dean choked on something, and coughed. It took him a moment to clear his throat, before he came back on the line. _"Excuse me? Can you say that again?"_

"I know this guy who works for the Pentagon. He kinda, well he doesn't owe me, but almost. I helped him out with an issue—your kind of issue actually—a month ago, and he knows that I have friends who hunt."

"_You told him everything? Shawn!"_

"I didn't tell him much. Just that I knew some people who did what I did for him, but as their living."

"_Shawn..."_

"He doesn't know who you guys are, okay? He doesn't know much of anything. I took care of a ghost for him, on a military—you know what? Never mind. I'm going to give you guys his number, and he's going to get you in. Just know he's planning to follow you around the Pentagon the whole time you're there. He already knows about ghosts, so he won't flinch hopefully. He's a good shot too, so you can give him a round of rocksalt and expect him to help. He just doesn't exactly trust friends of mine not to get in trouble in a government facility."

"_Uh..."_

"Don't ask. I'm not allowed to tell, and I wouldn't even try if I could. I did a hunt for him, and he's willing to try anything to take care of the problem at the Pentagon. He says they've already lost two men over there. So just call him, okay?"

Dean let out a bark of laughter. _"It will never stop amazing me how many people you know, Shawn."_

He grinned. "I know. Bask in the awesomeness that is me. Now here's the number..."

Dean took the number down before asking, _"Anything else I should know?"_

"Don't mention air ducts."

"_Air ducts?"_

"Don't ask. I would tell you, but then I'd have to kill you." Dean laughed, but Shawn didn't join in. "No," he said, "I'm serious. If I didn't kill you, Davis would find someone who would."

Dean stopped laughing, not sure how to reply to that. He probably couldn't tell if Shawn was fully serious or not.

"_Okay, then. Air ducts won't be mentioned."_

"Good. He's expecting your call, so I'll talk to you later. I gave him your first name, but by the time he meets you guys in person, he'll probably know a lot more about you. Just a warning. Don't worry though—as long as you guys don't do anything stupid, he won't use it against you."

"_Um, good to know...?"_

Shawn smiled. "Go get 'em, Tiger. And call me if you have any problems with Davis. I can't do much, but I know some people he reports to."

"_And who would that be—the President?"_ Dean joked.

Shawn winced, but still answered with, "Among other people, yes." He hung up before Dean could say a word.

Predictably, Dean tried to call him back immediately to ask if he was serious, but Shawn didn't answer. He had already said too much. If he talked to Dean again, he would surely blurt out the whole truth about how he had met Paul Davis last month. And Shawn _really_ didn't want to be exiled to an alien community.

* * *

**AN:** Hope you enjoyed that as much as I did! I loved the idea of Shawn leading MSIA Air Duct Tours...! xp

I'll try to get "The Unexpected" up during Christmas Break...! *crosses fingers* It will explain how Shawn met Davis and the other SG-1 members. ;)


End file.
